Lights in the Windows

Lights in the Windows
by Maureen Crane Wartski, author of Yuri's Brush with Magic

Driving homeward at dusk last night, I watched lights flicker on in windows of the houses we passed. Those pale rectangles of light made me wonder—not for the first time—who lived in those houses and what stories they could tell.

Stories are with me always… the true stories of family and friends that I have heard through the years, the ones I make up to amuse the grandchildren, the ones I research and write. Stories are everywhere and none fascinate me more than the ones I will never hear.

Have you sat on a beach or walked in the street or lingered at a store in the mall and heard a snatch of conversation that floated by? A half sentence that caught your ear and made you wonder how it was finished? Those bits and pieces of talk are often the bag and baggage of a writer, and I find myself playing with the words and picturing the story. Yes, the cat was up a tree for five days and nights, and …? So the screen door to the porch was slashed when….? And what do I think happened when she came home and found…? Oh, indeed, there are stories waiting to be told.

Sometimes, the stories involve not just unfinished sentences but people we meet for just a little while before the river of life flows on and we drift apart. The beautiful elderly woman who watched American troops liberate Paris; the small, calm gentleman who explained, while we were sailing along the Yangtze River, that he had long ago been one of the protesters at China’s Tiananmen Square—their lives and mine intersected for just a little while, but I remember them and wonder how they are.

A long time ago, my eighth grade English teacher told me that I had a frightening imagination, and perhaps this is true. But, consider—everyone has memories and stories that will be inevitably lost if they are not told. And such rich stories they could be! I remember buying an old quilt once and learning—quite by chance—that the long-ago quilter was a poor farm wife who had seven children and who used scraps from her sewing basket to piece seven large quilts so that all could stay warm during the bleak winters. I also fondly recall a formidable old lady who whispered to me that, when she was young, she wrote a bright red dress and danced the hoochy-koochy on the table. There is also the story of my Uncle Harry and the old beggar.

“Long ago,” my uncle once told me, “my company was almost ready to collapse. We had no business and no ready money. We were,” he added, “existing on what you might call the smell of an oil rag. But that was when the beggar came to the office…”

My uncle’s secretary wanted to send the ragged man away, but Harry would not allow this. “He looked old and weak and hungry, so I gave him cash for food, and he thanked me and handed me a rather dirty print of the gods of fortune. He said it would bring me luck. And if you can believe it…” a dramatic pause… “the next day Mr. K. walked into the office.”

Mr. K. was to become my uncle’s financial backer and patron, his lifelong friend. The beggar’s print? I remember it well, for it was framed and hung behind Harry’s desk for years. I don’t know what happened to it, but that really doesn’t matter because I have the story.

We need to remember our stories. We need to record and tell them so that they can be like those lights glowing in the windows of houses we pass in the night.

At your knee I heard

Things that made me laugh or sigh…

Yes, I remember.

Maureen Crane Wartski is an award-winning author of 14 books for children. She has published with Random House, Signet Books, Scholastic, and Fawcett Crest, among others. Her young adult novel A Boat to Nowhere won a Bank Street Award. Her newest book, Yuri's Brush with Magic, is a Next Generation Indie Book Award Finalist. Two of her titles were chosen for the California Department of Education's recommended reading list for multiculturalism in the middle grades.

Read Maureen's blog here: http://maureenwartski.wordpress.com/ You can order a copy of Yuri's Brush with Magic here: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/yuri-s-brush-with-magic?r=1, or ask your local librarian to order a copy.

A Tale of Two Cultures: Genre in Chinese Literature

Our former editorial intern Wendy Lu wrote this series on the reading culture in China.

A Tale of Two Cultures II: Genre in Chinese Literature by Wendy Lu:

The Chinese love lisi, or history.* More often than not, you will see that the books people hold in their hands while ambling down the street or wandering between shelves at the library are biographies of late rulers and other important figures, chronicles written about this dynasty or that era, or perhaps a photo journal of old relics and precious antiques that once belonged to families of lost names. Even children’s popular books are filled with stories about mighty emperors and their royal families living in the Forbidden Palace. In a country whose past dates back to over centuries ago, history is what grounds people and fuses that connection to their ancestry as well as to China herself.

That isn’t to say Chinese people don’t enjoy fiction as well. But while many television shows and novels are fictitious, they rely heavily on the setting and historical background of the era that the characters have been placed in. The back story of the characters and of the setting is a chief determinant of what goes on—the conflict—in those 28 episodes or 489 pages. Even as people are enjoying beautiful tales of family betrayal and war and incestuous romance and magic and rogue princesses in imaginative worlds, those imaginative worlds are based on the real world, either as it is or what it used to be.

Magic. In America today, we associate the word magic with glittering vampires, witches named Glinda, thin wands that shoot out colorful spells, dragons and other mythical creatures, green and gooey potions whose properties are either deadly or unknown, and Albus Dumbledore with his half-moon spectacles. While in China people definitely acknowledge those representations of magic, what first comes to mind is almost always wu da pian, another genre all its own that essentially means “kung fu” and is a major characteristic of Chinese culture.

Stories based on wu da pian are popular amongst all age groups, including youth. While numerous stories include martial arts and only martial arts, the kung fu that dominates the majority of wu da pian sagas incorporates elements of magic—that is, spells and enchantments activated through a link between the mind and body that are compelled by li, or energy. Flying, weaponry, and kung fu moves supplement this magic to create the genre wu da pian.

I remember babysitting two elementary school kids a couple weeks ago and taking part as the wounded victim in their wu da pian roleplay. They laid me, supposedly unconscious with fatal lacerations, on the ground and began yelling out a series of hypnotizing incantations and waving their hands—flat and positioned accordingly—in fixed patterns around my head. During one of the few moments in which I wasn’t fearing for my life in the hands of two kids who’d gone Kung Fu Panda on me, I realized they must be replicating a certain wu da pian series they’d read in a book or seen on television. Oh dear, I thought, I hope the victim in the actual series lives in the end.

In addition to wu da pian—and perhaps within the very genre itself, talking animals with human-like features, tall-tale legends, and fighting faeries that fly and travel via giant chess pieces (makes the magic carpet sound so obsolete, so ‘90’s, doesn’t it?) are also relatively popular in literature, especially children’s books. Stories that take place within the Forbidden Palace and feature princes and princesses and other members related to the Emperor are classic. And, of course, internationally acclaimed books such as Twilight and Harry Potter have also earned accolade and a capacious readership in China, and have played a large role in western globalization in China. However, Chinese literature is and always has been delineated by lisi and wu da pian and everything that ultimately defines China.


*Note: Getting to know the many locals here and learning what sort of literature attracts and resonates with them has been an enlightening journey and joy. When I say “the Chinese,” I am referring to many of the native citizens who live here, especially those I have come to know and befriend, but it is not to be assumed that my comments on “the Chinese” may not relate to “all Chinese.”

The Palace Within

I was driving to pick up dog food at Costco, when I starting thinking about this blog post. My thoughts drifted to the parquet floors of Peterhoff, the summer home of the tsars.

I had been on a study abroad program to Leningrad. We had visited the Bolshoi Ballet; the Hermitage; the place where Pushkin had studied. We had inspected Mon Plaisir, where royals would lunch while enjoying spectacular views of the Gulf of Finland. (Good for the digestion.) After each course, the royal table would disappear into floor below, where servants would remove dishes and plate the next course. Then, whoosh, the table would rise again to waiting guests with forks poised.

It was all lovely. Really. Palaces, gardens, fountains, grand halls, amber brooches, malachite urns. Yes, there were diamond-encrusted clocks, delicate jeweled birds in golden cages, flattering oils, voluptuous silks, overstuffed beds. And there was I, traipsing through the Summer Palace in clumsy, felt strap-on sandals, when a funny thought entered my head. "Where is MY palace?"

Just days before, we students had visited the Leningrad Blockade Museum. Affixed to a piece of board was the recipe and proportions the bakers of Leningrad had used to make bread while the Germans were busy blockading their city for nearly 3 years. The wartime bread was made, in large part, of sawdust, shoe leather, and other detritus that could be consumed. Until that day, I did not know you could eat shoe leather.

And just miles away -- *snap* -- we found ourselves in this palatial estate, Peterhof -- (it is magnificent, you should really go there: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peterhof_Palace) -- where we had to remove our shoes (but thankfully, not eat them), so that we wouldn't scuff the parquet floors.

The timing of this served to tick me off. Why does one girl get to be a princess and one a pauper? Why does one get to walk in slippers in royal gardens and one is born into circumstances where life is spent barefoot -- not in Eden, but in poverty.

I wondered why, why, why. "And where is MY palace?" I asked the museum gods, wagging my finger at the fat little cherubs on the frescoed ceilings.

Granted, I have lived a life of luxury relative to the world's population. I have always had enough to eat. I was educated. I own a home and drive a car. I can afford pets.

But WHY don't I have a palace? I wondered, as I channeled my inner Eloise, the storybook heroine of the Plaza Hotel. I wondered this as I slid the length of the parquet ballroom floor in my government-issued slippers, turning the royal hall of masterpieces into an existential slip and slide. The museum guard chided me in Russian for my lack of decorum.

But before I heard his words, I heard my own. And the voice said: "Build your palace within."

Hmmm. I thought, "Build your palace within. What the heck does that mean?" I was still a teenager who liked pretty things.

As I was walking into Costco today, I passed the pyramid of Whey Protein Powder Shakes, the Jack LaLane Juicers (only $89 dollars!) and past cases with diamond bracelets and Lladro figurines. It was starting to feel just a little too much like a museum... and a slip-and-slide.

The photograph above was taken on the night of Dec. 4, 2010. (The launch of Sleepy Hollow Books and the debut of Maureen Wartski's novel, Yuri's Brush with Magic.) Here is my winter palace: the Regulator Bookstore in Durham, North Carolina. Although it may not be stately or ornate -- you might even call it modest -- it holds a jewel greater than the Tiffany Yellow Diamond. This simple building holds a heart and soul, the vortex of community, within its walls. It is run by a fellow named Tom Campbell and another gentleman named John Valentine; they feed the soul and warm the heart.

Happy Valentine's Day to one and all. May your palace within glow brightly this year.
xoxo Amy

(Photo credit: Caperton Morton Andersson)

Holding Up the Sky

We know Aesop’s fabled tortoise won the race, but what if hare and turtle were to take to the sea? The sea turtle would be my odds-on favorite. Sea turtles can cross oceans and swim in bursts of up to 30 mph when evading predators. Sea turtles are one of the few species so ancient that they watched the dinosaurs evolve and become extinct.

Sea turtles have survived for 150 million years. Now we are stewards of the Earth. Sea turtles have become endangered due to climate change, poaching, development, and pollution. If they go extinct, who will hold up the Sky?

My wish is that parents, librarians, and teachers use the novel Yuri’s Brush with Magic by Maureen Wartski in book clubs and middle-school classrooms to open discussion about these ancient sea creatures and how kids can help protect our environment.

Would you like to...

"Adopt" a sea turtle and track its progress on the computer? Click here: http://www.seaturtle.org/adopt/

Visit a sea turtle in person? Start here:
North Carolina Aquariums http://www.ncaquariums.com/
Karen Beasley Sea Turtle Rehab. Center http://www.seaturtlehospital.org/

Spend summer at a Sea Turtle Camp?
Check this out: http://www.seaturtlecamp.com/

Find a great holiday gift for your tween? Order a copy of Yuri’s Brush with Magic here: http://www.amazon.com/Yuris-Brush-Magic-Maureen-Wartski/dp/0982454252. For bulk orders, please contact amy@sleepyhollowbooks.com; (919) 724-0250

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“Anytime you see a turtle up on top of a fence post, you know he had some help.” -- Alex Haley

(Photo credit: Joe Tansey)

Love the ones you're with

Yesterday was Respect for the Aged Day in Japan. People bring meals to the elderly; everyone has the day off, presumably to celebrate and help the elder citizens of their communities.

It got me thinking about my grandparents. I never knew my maternal grandfather, Al Smith. He died shortly after my parents were married. But his memory loomed large and he was a good friend and advocate for my mother. My paternal grandfather was a big personality – fun, smart, playful and loving. I would give anything to spend one more day on his front porch looking out at the mountains with his arm around me. There are some things that are indelible to the memory – like the feel of shirt fabric on a young arm or the gnarled thumbnail of a man who retired but never quit working.

My message to kids – to ANYONE who has a grandparent on this Earth: Be kind to them. Listen to them. Sit close to them. Rub their feet (if they like that). Give them as many hugs as you can. Tell them that you love them. Write them letters. (Especially thank you notes.) Believe me, you will miss them when they are gone.

Happy New Year! あけましておめでとうございます

I hope the new year finds you and your family well and happy!

To celebrate the end of 2010, I attended the year-end Mochi-Tsuki (rice cake pounding) event hosted by the Nippon Club of the Triangle.





Boiled sticky rice (餅米 mochigome) is put into a shallow stone bowl and patted with water and then pounded with a large wooden mallet. Mashing the rice, it forms a sticky white dumpling -- and can be eaten with all sorts of delicious toppings.

Mochi is also made into a New Year's decoration called kagami mochi (鏡餅), formed from two round cakes of mochi with a bitter orange (橙 daidai) placed on top. The name daidai is supposed to be auspicious since it means "several generations."

To write "Happy New Year" in Japanese: あけましておめでとうございます

To say "Happy New Year" in Japanese: Akemashite omedeto gozaimasu

10:10:10!

My friend Grace has a lovely quote on her website:

"Act each day as if the good that you do will change the world forever. Just as the sands of the Sahara blow across the Atlantic and sparkle a Caribbean sunset, your smile today can cross the oceans and provide a little goodness to a stranger on the other side of the world."

What a lovely sentiment. I had the great honor of traveling to the Duke Marine Lab in Beaufort, NC this past weekend. We had a series of lectures by NC Sea Turtle Biologist Dr. Matthew Godfrey, and scientists Campbell, Piniak, Boucquey, Bjorkland, and Ramus. I know so much more about sea turtles now!

Did you know that sea turtles are considered "living dinosaurs"? Fossil records date their species back to the time of the dinosaur. There are five remaining species of sea turtles on earth -- and all five are on the endangered list.

So it was a pleasure to help the folks at the Duke Marine Lab release three of the green turtles that they had rehabbed back to health -- into the wild.

On Sunday, October 10, 2010, we traveled on the Susan Hudson research vessel out to a good spot in the ocean and set the turtles free. This little turtle took off like a shot. It must have been the big smooch I gave him. Swim well, little fellow. Enjoy the Carribbean sunsets. Think of me. You certainly put a big smile in my heart.

White Sea Turtle

I went behind the scenes this weekend at the NC Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores. We got to see this cute little guy close up, along with other rescued hatchlings that are being cared for by Michele Lamping -- one of the world's leading experts of sea turtle husbandry. Here is the link for more information about this special little fellow:
http://www.ncaquariums.com/what-would-you-name-a-white-sea-turtle
The NC Aquarium is running a contest to help name the turtle... give it a try!